


Lights Out

by HeatherTN



Series: Vignettes and Standalones [1]
Category: Death in Paradise
Genre: Bereavement., Character Death, F/M, Gen, Hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-10
Updated: 2013-04-10
Packaged: 2017-12-08 02:27:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/755927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeatherTN/pseuds/HeatherTN
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My take on how DI Poole exits Saint-Marie. I am heartbroken and want this fic to reflect that. All the best to the DIP crew. Wishing Ben Miller all the best and success for the future.</p><p>Characters and original Story the property of Robert Throrogood and Red Planet Productions.</p><p>Do not read if you don't want to be upset.</p><p>NB. 11th Jan 2014. Turns out this is more prophetic than I thought. Only the means by the BBC is different, less heroic and quite unkind. :'(</p><p>Edited and Updated 29.4.2013</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lights Out

He didn’t feel it at first but then had stiffened as the heavy *thump* of something passed through him. Those around him heard a brief high pitched whistle and were frozen to the spot as their senior detective suddenly fell from his chair back against the wooden doorway of ‘La Kaz’.

The team had been successful in solving the murder of a local business man, who had also been a major exporter of drugs from South America. They had decanted to Catherine’s bar for a celebratory drink, not realising that the business man’s associates would be wanting payback for their trading link being suddenly cut off and millions of dollars worth of goods confiscated.

Detective Inspector Richard Poole had begun to settle in at Saint-Marie even to the point of secretly making the most important change of his life, despite his luggage being misplaced as usual by the airline. He would never admit to it openly of course, well not yet anyway, but the main reason for his return and decision to stay permanently in Honoré sat to his left, her dark tumbling hair framing her face, her eyes lit with joy and her laughter infectious. He toyed with the idea of telling her.... _them_ of his plans to repatriate full time there and then, to which the Commissioner has been quietly delighted to confirm at the airport. But decided to leave them to enjoy at least the first round of drinks.

He had leaned forward to say something to her, but the invisible and now extremely painful force had hit without warning. He couldn’t move, could not easily breathe. He felt something wet seeping over the front of his shirt, then down his back, and the world began to sway.

In the distance there was a scream followed by general cries of panic and confusion. Shadows appeared in front of him, the movement confusing him. He realised the wheezy rasping noise was his as air leaked through the chest wall in to damaged lungs.

But he heard only her at first, felt only her touch as she had moved her arms around him, only her.

 _“Richard! No..!”_ The panic in her voice troubled him, unsettled him. He wanted to comfort her but could not move his body.

 _“Don’t move Sir!”_ It was Fidel’s voice, his young eager protégé who had come so far in this last little while. Richard was aware of Fidel taking his hand. But he could not _feel_ it.

 _“Everything will be Ok Chief, ambulance on its way..”_ Dwayne. Ah yes, Dwayne who was not only a bit of a maverick but one of the best ‘beat cops’ Richard had worked with, whose idea of 'community policing' had left Richard shuddering at times. But still....

Then the pain really hit. He tried to sit up again but couldn’t. He was dying and he knew it.

A strange calm washed over him. Her touch was the only thing connecting him now, her voice distant, her pleadings that he would not be able to honour. With profound regret Richard summonsed anything that was left of a tiny thread of strength.

She had to know. He had to tell her. He could not leave her unknowing. It would hurt her, he knew, but not knowing would be worse. It was all he could give her now, that final gift that he had been far too slow in giving.

“Camille..” he whispered though the blood pouring up into his mouth”..I...”

 _“Shh Richard, tell me later!”_ came her distant reply.

“No..need to tell you now..need to tell you!” He was getting annoyed, he needed to say this and was going to! Damn her Frenchness!’

“Camille...please, let me...finish.”

_“What Richard!”_

Pulling his free hand from Fidel’s, the last painful movement was to try and brush her cheek.

“I love you Camille. Always have.”

And after those words fell from his lips, the lights finally went out.

 

*********************************

 

Goodbye DI Richard Poole, you will be sorely missed XXXXX


End file.
